


Any Other Tuesday

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [66]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst, Established Relationship, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Original Character(s), Prejudice Against Monsters (Undertale), Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Violence, papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-01-31 10:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18589162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: It started the same as any other Tuesday.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

It was a slow day at ‘Classic Books’. Not unusual for a Tuesday, but Jeff was currently at a standstill when it came to actually earning his paycheck. All his orders were sent out, any shipment was put away. He’d even dusted the shelves earlier in desperation, thought it wasn’t strictly part of his job. Just a slow, slow day in book sales. 

With nothing else to do, he’d pulled out his laptop and was poking at his resume halfheartedly. Applying for new jobs was part of his weekly routine but so far, callbacks were few and far between. When he did get one, it always seemed to turn out he had too little experience, too much education, or it paid less than he was making now.

Didn’t stop him from trying but it sure as hell was discouraging, because he needed a damn new job. He needed it. 

It wasn’t even only about using the degree he’d worked so damned hard for. It was…well, he knew what it was about, didn’t he. It was about being able to pay for one of the dates he and Antwan went on, it was about trying to be an equal partner, better than he was now, and maybe if he could prove he was useful outside the bedroom, maybe they could inch past where they were. Stuck between having fun together and wavering on the border of maybe something more. 

Not that it was any surprise their relationship had been hanging in suspended animation for the past few months. It wasn’t that Jeff didn’t understand. Antwan was busy, he was _so_ busy. Every time one crisis was handled another one cropped up like a malevolent daisy. That they saw each other as much as they did was probably halfway to a miracle. 

And it wasn’t that things were bad, not at all. They still went out when they could and he was still sleeping over a few times a week, either at Antwan’s apartment in town or his house in New New Home. Antwan didn’t seem to mind that Jeff couldn’t really return the favor; his twin bed wasn’t really designed for visitors. But sometimes when they were lying in bed together at night with sweat still drying on their skin and Antwan curled up behind him more asleep than not, the urge to blurt out what he felt was overpowering. Finally let it all spill out between them, pour out the cup of his emotions and see what happened. 

Only, Jeff knew what happened, didn’t he. Usually, they told you to get your shit and get out. 

Not that Antwan would do that; Jeff knew he wouldn’t. He knew that much, at least. Antwan was so gentle, always, from the very beginning when they barely knew each other’s last names, but they’d already seen each other’s dicks. He wouldn’t kick Jeff out, no. He’d try to be kind, push him gently out the door, and that was maybe worse. 

But maybe if Jeff told him, actually spat out that hey, this was a lot of fun, but the truth was he loved Antwan _so_ much, like a physical ache, and seeing him made happiness settle in his chest, right where Stretch swore Humans kept their souls. Maybe Antwan would ask him to stay longer, stay permanently. Maybe he’d say what he felt back.

So far, it hadn’t felt worth the risk. Not yet. But every day it seemed like he got a little closer to letting those words fall free, to see where they took him. If he could get another job, maybe he would be willing to try. 

It was worth a shot.

He was juggling a lot of maybes right now, trying desperately not to drop any of them. He wondered what it said about him that getting a new job seemed like the easiest one and he still couldn’t manage it.

The bell over the door jangled as it opened and seeing Stretch shuffle inside brought a marked improvement his dismal mood.

“heya, handy andy,” Stretch said cheerily. He was carrying two disastrously flamboyant drinks, all bright colors and rainbow sprinkles, and set one on the counter, slinging his backpack to the floor as Jeff accepted his generous offer of caffeine gratefully. “how are the page turners today?”

“They aren’t moving much, but that’s about normal for a Tuesday,” Jeff said. He took a sip of his drink and sighed gratefully. It was still a little difficult for him to accept that Stretch, and by default Edge, were so weirdly invested in buying him food and drinks. Even Sans had brought coffee and snacks when he’d gone to help him in the lab, which made Jeff wonder if it was just a Monster thing. ‘Caring and Feeding of Human Friends’ would probably be a bestseller in New New Home. “What brings you out here?”

Before Stretch could answer, the office door opened and Thomas came out, drawn by the jangle of the bell. A smile creased his wrinkled face when he saw who it was. 

“Stretch! It’s good to see you, my boy!” He clasped Stretch by the upper arms in greeting, his trembling hands gentle. 

Stretch immediately lapsed into German, the two of them chattering together happily. Jeff didn’t speak German past schadenfreude and braunschweiger, but he did know the name Andy and he could damn well see it when people pointed at him, thank you. The laughter that followed his pseudonym was not at all welcome.

“Let me in, guys,” Jeff grumbled, “I hate standing to the side while the grownups talk.”

Thomas reached out to pat his hand, even as he eyed Jeff’s drink with distaste. “Ah, I’m sorry, Jeffery, I so rarely get to hear it.”

Okay, so maybe a rainbow frappuccino didn’t exactly scream adulthood. Whatever, Stretch had one, too, and no one gave him shit. “Uh huh. What was it you two were saying?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Thomas said dismissively. He turned back to Stretch, gesturing for them to follow him towards the backroom. “And how are you feeling, my boy? I’ve heard that you were sick.”

That made Stretch stop, scowling down at Thomas. “from who? because i know my best bud here wasn’t tattling.”

Jeff tried his best to look like that was absolutely true. 

To his relief, Thomas had his back, waving that off. “I hear things. But you have not answered me.”

“okay, well, for you and whatever tracking device i might have stuck somewhere, i’m good.” The straw crackled at the bottom of his cup as Stretch struggled to get the last sip. “i got your email that my order was in and thought i’d stop in.

“It is. I have it here. You,” Thomas pointed firmly at Jeff, who froze, standing as though pinned by his aimed finger, “are helping him carry them home.”

“I am?”

“he is?”

Thomas spread his hands and shrugged. “He has been sick. He rides the bus. He buys many books. Does he bring a cart? A wagon? No. So you will help him.”

“uh huh. what has edge been telling you?” Stretch asked suspiciously.

“Him? He tells me the truth! You have been sick and are not to carry too much.”

“so, what you’re telling me is he suckered you into making sure i have a personal assistant,” Stretch said flatly.

“No, no," Thomas scoffed. "He bribed me! Good money, too."

“good for you!” Stretch slapped Thomas firmly on the back. “stick it to the man, thomas!"

"Your husband is the man?" Jeff finished his own drink, basking in his renewed energy and tossing the cup into the trash.

"yeah, and i stick it to him all the time," Stretch leered. “c’mon, andy. if i text edge now that you’re coming for dinner, he’ll have time to nix anything with tomatoes.”

* * *

After Stretch paid for his books, they ended up going through a rather brutal round of negotiations over who was carrying what before they could finally start making their way down to the bus stop. 

Stretch only had one backpack that he could sling over his shoulder, but Thomas dug out a couple of sturdy canvas bags that he loaded with books. Some were normal fiction, popular titles that Jeff recognized. Others had titles with enough complex scientific terminology to make an ache start in his forehead trying to read only the cover, much less cracking it open. 

Jeff abandoned those efforts quickly and embraced his role as pack mule, evenly distributing the weight between the bags. He hefted them, testing it out.

“don’t let them fool you, andy, i can take a few more,” Stretch grumbled. As if Jeff couldn’t see the way the zipper on his bag was almost groaning at the seams.

“Nope, I’ve got this,” Jeff grunted. So long as the weight was balanced, it wasn’t bad. He turned back to Thomas, who was watching the process with amusement. “You sure you’ll be okay if I leave early?”

“Yes, yes, go!” He made a shooing motion towards the door. “I will leave my door open while I watch my shows.”

“you are a man who knows what he wants,” Stretch grinned, “see you soon!”

“See you tomorrow,” Jeff added, and followed Stretch out the door. 

The next bus wasn’t for few minutes yet and they meandered their way down the street towards the stop. Stretch stepped around Jeff to be downwind before pulling out his cigarettes, managing to flick one free from the pack and light it all with one hand.

“i really should use that vape thing red gave me at the hospital more often,” Stretch exhaled a cloud of smoke with a sigh. “edge has been giving me the side eye lately over how much i’m smoking.”

“How are you feeling, anyway?” Jeff asked, hesitantly. They’d texted a bunch of times and of course he followed Stretch on twitter, but he hadn’t actually seen him since they’d moved most of the lab equipment to the other basement. The memory of Stretch standing frozen on the steps to the old lab was still terribly fresh, as was the soft, hitching sounds he’d made. There had been tears sliding down his cheek bones as he’d stood unmoving, his eye lights tiny and dim. When Jeff realized something was very wrong, he hadn’t hesitated to call Edge. 

He only gotten the gist of what had happened in that old lab, from Antwan and from Sans, and he knew it was bad. Bad enough for an impromptu move and while Jeff certainly didn’t mind lending a hand, it didn’t mean he wasn’t still worried.

Stretch took a long drag off his cigarette, rolling his eye lights. “don’t you start.”

“I’m not starting, I’m asking,” Jeff said pointedly, “you’re my friend and I’ve been informed by you yourself that I am allowed to ask personal questions.”

“that i reserve the right not to answer,” Stretch said, a little sulkily. “but seriously, i’m fine. my magic bounces back really quick.” 

Somehow, Jeff didn’t think that was quite the correct answer to his question. 

“And your HP?” Jeff knew he was treading in dangerous ground, Stretch could be very touchy about his HP.

His eye lights flickered visibly but he did answer. “it’s good, holding steady at five. ask edge to do a check on me if you don’t believe me.”

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?” Jeff asked, honestly confused. “And what’s a Check?”

Stretch blew out a sharp breath. He crouched down, his backpack wobbling ominously while he tamped out his cigarette in the dirt before pocketing the butt. “sorry. i feel like everyone has been crawling up my ass lately. my bro has been texting me twice a day since i got out of the hospital.” From his weary expression, Blue probably wasn’t sending him cute memes. “never thought i’d be looking forward to him going on his next diplomatic mission.” 

He scrubbed a hand over his skull, looking out in the main town square at the little rows of shops and restaurants. “a check is…it’s a magic thing. if you do a check on another monster, it tells you a little surface info, their hp, their lv, if they have any, and sometimes even their basic state of being. usually it’s something you’d only do in a fight, but parents might do it for their kids.”

“Or someone who’s a little overprotective,” Jeff said wryly. “Okay, I can guess you don’t like them much.”

“yeah, it’s generally considered pretty rude to do a check on an adult without asking. doesn’t stop my bro,” Stretch said sourly, “edge usually asks. usually.”

“Well, hey, I promise to never do a check on you without permission.”

“wow, thanks, do you promise not to sprout wings or summon an attack, too?” Stretch laughed. “because it’d be just about as likely. come on, slowpoke, bet i can beat you to the stop without even teleporting.”

He took off at a loping run, backpack bouncing wildly.

“Your legs are twice as long as mine,” Jeff yelled and ran after him. 

The canvas bags kept crashing into his ankles, nearly sending him sprawling. Jeff didn’t care. He only laughed and chased after his friend, not even suspecting that in only a few hours he would be lying bleeding out on the ground almost exactly where they were running. 

He caught up to Stretch just before he reached the stop, dropping the bags and grabbing the back of his sweatshirt.

“cheating! interference!” Stretch howled. His backpack was abandoned as he tried to squirm out of his sweatshirt, but Jeff was laughing too hard to keep hold. He went back for the bags as Stretch reached the bus stop, hands raised over his head as he cheered.

“and our winner today is the monster contingency! i’d like to dedicate this win to all my fans, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh.” He started dancing, moving his hips disco-style and finishing with a pose that would have done Travolta proud.

“Keep it up, dancing queen, and they won’t let us on the bus,” Jeff panted, still grinning. He flopped down on the bench, book bags falling limply at his feet.

“maybe you, all the drivers like me.” Stretch plunked down next to him and nudged him with an elbow. “feeling better?”

“Yeah.” There was no point in denying he’d been feeling down. Stretch always knew things he shouldn’t.

“good. edge won’t be home for a while yet and i’m feeling the need for a trashy movie. wanna watch ‘plan 9 from outer space’ at our place?”

“If this is how you tip the help, you could use a new calculator.”

“edge made his special spinach dip last night,” Stretch raised his voice to be heard over the oncoming bus.

“Should have said that to begin with. Hell, yes, then.”

The bus came to a groaning halt in front of them and Jeff gathered up his bags, followed Stretch up the steps. He bit back his complaint when Stretch paid for them both and only settled into one of the seats while Stretch sprawled out next to him. 

A new job, that’s what he needed. Then he could start paying back his friends.

* * *

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

A bus ride, a short walk, and a bowl of spinach dip later, and they were settled in front of the television, ready to be awed by one of the worst movies ever made. That was fine by Jeff; being in Edge and Stretch’s house was frankly nicer than being in his own. Not that his roommates were bad guys, but they were _roommates_ , not really friends, and his own small room became claustrophobic if he spent too much time in it. 

They ended up sitting on the sofa together, the dip on the end table where Jeff could toss a chip in from time to time. Stretch was too tall to sprawl out across the cushions if someone was already sitting on it, so he tended to sort of curl up and lay with his head on whoever’s lap was in his way. He did the same thing no matter who it was; Jeff, Edge and his brother, although there was an obvious difference in the level of sprawl and the amount of handsyness involved.

Jeff figured it was just a Stretch thing, but he kinda wondered what Edge thought about it, given his paranoia about Humans getting touchy-feely with Stretch. The past few visits Edge hadn’t given them so much as a sideways glance, so Jeff figured he’d made it on the short list. Edge wasn’t his friend like Stretch was, they didn’t text or send snapchats, didn’t meet up for coffee or weird experiments. He was still a friend and that was Jeff’s short list.

So yeah, sitting on the sofa earned a Stretch in the lap. Not that he couldn’t sit in one of the armchairs, he could, but, eh, this was obviously something Stretch preferred and he was Jeff’s friend. Who was he to deny something so easy when it made him happy?

The only problem he ran into was where to put his hands. On the skull seemed weirdly intimate, but they didn’t fit on his own lap. In the end, he settled one hand on Stretch’s side and the other on the armrest. Not that Stretch seemed to care; he was sleeping before the movie got through the opening credits. It made Jeff think maybe he wasn’t being as honest about how he was feeling as he could be.

Well, if a nap would do him good, then Jeff was fine with playing the role of pillow. 

He kept as still as he could, watching the movie while Stretch slept, sometimes glancing down at him. It was sort of interesting, honestly. Skeleton Monster, not skeleton and it struck him again how little they looked like a human corpse or a lab display. For one, he was breathing, his chest rising and falling even without lungs to fill. His joints were very faintly tinted orange, and he twitched a little in his sleep, murmuring nonsensically. Skeleton Monsters looked _alive_ and when he was awake, Stretch was full of grins and snark, dragging everyone in to the gravity well of his exuberance.

How did some Humans look at Monsters and see something to hate? Jeff didn’t understand it.

And hey, maybe it was because _he_ was Human, but he wasn’t fucking sorry that the guy who’d attacked Stretch on the bus was dead. Hasta la vista, baby. 

The movie was almost over when the front door opened with a jangle of keys. Stretch stirred, sitting up with a yawn as Edge came in, mumbling out, “hey, babe.”

“Hello, you two,” Edge said easily, unsurprised at the scene before him, which meant Stretch had managed to text him at some point before he spent time drooling on Jeff’s pant leg. 

Edge walked over, leaning down to give Stretch a kiss and Jeff kept his eyes pointedly on the tv. Normally, his little shipper heart would be throwing off sparkly joy to see his favorite couple so happy together but lately, it brought up an ache. too. He wanted to be the one giving those welcoming kisses to his lover or better yet, getting them as he came home from his new job. 

That kiss lasted a little too long for a friendly greeting, and Jeff finally coughed pointedly. It was probably a sign that he really was friends with Edge that it only got him an amused glance and not a glare. 

Edge flicked a look at the television. “I hope that movie is nearly over. Torture after a full day at work is against the Geneva convention.”

From behind him came a familiar voice “You guys want to get out of here with your lovey dovey or should I stay on the porch?”

Antwan.

Jeff leaned enough to look around Edge and saw him. He was standing in the open doorway, leaning against the jamb. Still dressed in his work clothes, his tie loosened, and the top button undone on his shirt. It was a good look on him, clean-cut and a little mussed and, honestly, he looked good enough to eat, no ketchup required. His slow smile when he saw Jeff only made a flutter of warmth leap in his chest. 

He wandered over, almost mimicking Edge as he leaned down to give Jeff a warm, deep kiss. By the end of it, they probably deserved a throat clearing of their own, but hell with it. Jeff wasn’t about to give this up too quickly. 

“Hey, pretty,” Antwan pulled back, breathed it close to his ear and Jeff shivered. Not exactly the afternoon kiss of his dreams but it was damn close.

“If you’re quite finished.”

Edge stood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching them with a brow bone raised while Stretch was sprawled on the other side of the sofa, leaning against the arm with his chin propped on his updrawn knees as he stared. His eye lights looked like little hearts, soft and warm.

“Yeah, yeah, quit bitching. And you, stop that,” Antwan gave Stretch a gentle poke as he walked past him. “We need to talk shop a little longer, finish your movie and we’ll get dinner started.”

“that better not mean you’re cooking, antwan,” Stretch called after them as they walked to the kitchen. “i wanna actually be able to eat the food, not bury it to ease its suffering.” 

Antwan didn’t even look behind him as he offered an upraised middle finger in their direction and Stretch grinned, leaning in confidingly to Jeff. “he secretly loves me.” 

It was meant as a joke. Stretch couldn’t read the doubts that were engraved in his thoughts, and it shouldn’t hurt to hear that, it shouldn’t. Instead he looked away, towards the shelves that lined one of the walls. 

“Did Edge get some new action figures?” Jeff asked, both eager to change the subject and honestly curious.

“hmm? oh, yeah, but don’t ask me what the hell they are,” Stretch rolled to his feet and wandered over to the shelves. “he lives for ebay, finds all kinds of weird shit, gets lot jobs and rebuilds ‘em.”

“He does a good job.” Each figure was meticulously placed on the shelf, some on risers and others lined up around them. Jeff wasn’t sure of the organization, but he had no doubt that Edge planned it as obsessively as he did everything else. The rhyme and reason surely made sense to him, despite the fact that GI Joes were placed next to She-Ra, smaller Lego sets interspersed between them. 

Jeff admired the display, mentally cataloging the different series and wondering at the value. Even out of the package, they were probably worth a decent amount, and whatever repairs he did sure as hell didn’t show. 

One of them caught his eye, an Optimus Prime figure that towered a head above the others. The gun in his hand was loose and about to fall, and Jeff reached out to fix it before it could escape and get lost in the carpet. His nudge turned out a little too hard, and the Transformer wobbled dangerously, falling into a grim-faced He-Man and they could only watch in frozen horror as the chain reaction ran through the entire shelf, a domino massacre of action figures that only ended when the last figure toppled, piled on the shelf with its fallen brethren.

The silence was broken only by the tinny soundtrack of the ending movie coming from the television. 

“oh,” Stretch said, blankly. He reached out weakly, his hand hovering over the pile, trying and failing to decide which to start with. “well. i mean. i guess that could’ve been worse?”

As if only waiting for a prompt from the universe, the shelf collapsed, falling into the one beneath it and sending them both to the floor. Action figures scattered, an explosion of plastic and Jeff could only watch the destruction in mortification 

Slowly, he leaned down and picked up the Optimus, the one who had started the entire catastrophe. The gun was still firmly in his hand, it was only a shame that the arm was no longer attached to the body. 

"What was that?" The kitchen door swung open, Edge and Antwan stepping out. Two steps into the living room, Edge stopped mid-stride, his eye lights widening as he took in the carnage of his beloved display. 

"babe!" Stretch said, brightly and a little panicked as he whirled around, wringing his hands. "um, sorry, i...uh...i bumped into the shelf and knocked it over. kinda set off a chain reaction there, really, we should complain to the manufacturer, there’s no way it should have fallen that easily, am i right? probably have a lawsuit on our hands, maybe, good thing you’re here, antwan, bet you know how to make ikea pay--”

Jeff could feel sweat beading on his forehead, biting his lip as he tried to figure out what to say. He felt awful, bordering on nauseous and, fuck, he couldn’t let Stretch take the blame for his stupid mistake. On one hand, Edge probably wouldn’t get as angry with Stretch, but on the other. he shouldn’t get angry with Stretch at all, he didn’t do anything. He needed to speak up, say something but the words were stuck, clogged up in the tightness of his throat.

"It's all right," Edge said, gently interrupting Stretch’s rambling. The gentleness in his voice shouldn’t be a surprise, Jeff knew him better than that, and still. He couldn’t help cringing a little when Edge’s eye lights flicked to him, his words obviously meant for them both. "There was no harm done. They're action figures, they were made to be played with, a little fall isn't going to damage them."

"nope, nothing broken at all!" Stretch chirped with almost desperate hope. Jeff couldn’t even agree, not with the evidence in his hands.

Edge only sighed and shook his head. "Which one broke?"

Meekly, Jeff held Optimus out and watched in misery as Edge's eye socket twitched visibly. He took it, turning it to inspect the damage.

"I'll find you another one," Jeff blurted. Even if he had to find another job, work nights for a while, he would. "I'm so sorry, I--"

Edge held up a hand and Jeff fumbled miserably to a stop. "I accept the apology, but it isn't broken. It looks like the screws were loose. This is an easy repair, it's all right, there’s no harm done."

“But the shelves—” Jeff started.

At that moment, the smoke alarm chose to join the chaos, blaring its alarm. Edge thrust the toy back into Jeff’s hands and dashed back into the kitchen, Antwan on his heels.

 _The world is turning against me,_ Jeff decided with almost giddy dismay. _Wheee!_

“huh.” Stretch stuck his hands in his pockets contemplatively while the fire alarm wailed in the back ground, mixing horribly with the eerie music still pouring from the tv. “this keeps getting better. c’mon, i need to see how this ride ends.”

Reluctantly, Jeff followed him into the kitchen. He was right, they needed to see this through to the bitter end. And anyway, misery loved company.

Moments later in the strange silence left by defused fire alarm, they stood in a circle around the charred remains on the kitchen island, an impromptu funeral for an unexpected demise.

Jeff wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be, but what it was right now was charcoal.

With two fingers, Stretch plucked a wooden spoon from the holder, gingerly poking the remnants. “hate to say it, babe, but i don’t think we have enough tabasco for this one.” He dropped the spoon and dusted off his hands, adding brightly. “how does everyone feel about chinese?”

Edge took a deep breath. "Right. Dinner out it is."

“Chinese will work,” Antwan said agreeably. “Not up to your standards, buddy, but sometimes you’ve got to take one for the team.”

Jeff only shuffled his feet, trying desperately to think of a way to beg off. His bank account had about twenty dollars in it until he got paid Friday and he couldn’t blow it all on dinner tonight.

Before he could think of a decent excuse, if there was one past the truth, Stretch slung an arm around his shoulders. “why don’t you two finish the funeral arrangements and we can clean up the living room.”

He tugged and Jeff followed, reluctantly, out of the kitchen. The action figure carnage was right where they’d left it, but before he could take a step towards it, Stretch leaned down, talking low, “i know what you were gonna say, okay, but please, we’ve got this. if you don’t let him feed you, he’ll be grouchy all night and i’ll have to deal with him and i kinda make a point of not dealing with him when he’s grouchy, and then i won’t be able to sleep tonight, and you wouldn’t do that to my health, would you?”

That was a very obvious ploy, so painfully blatant, and the hopefulness in Stretch’s face was all part of it, a very deliberate act, all of it. He knew that. So why the hell was Jeff so weak against it?

“No, I wouldn’t,” Jeff sighed.

“excellent!” Stretch said cheerily. “so let’s at least gather up the bits and bobs before we hit the town, right?” He leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, with a furtive look at the kitchen door, “tell you the truth, i love restaurant chinese food more than what he makes. edge doesn’t add enough msg.” Stretch gave him a wink. “don’t ever tell him i said that. promise?”

“I promise,” Jeff said, hooking Stretch’s pinkie with his own and shaking solemnly, before he broke and grinned. Somehow, Stretch always made him feel better, even when he was stupid or broke. He’d pay him back someday, Jeff told himself fiercely. Pay him back for everything.

There were three hours left before things came crashing down, the fate poised above them ready to rip through his hopeful intentions the same as it did his skin, but Jeff didn’t know that. None of them did. Three hours, and right now Jeff was picking up action figures, laughing over them with nostalgia and wonder, carefully matching them to their toy axes and guns, and piling them together while Edge and Antwan disposed of the wreckage in the kitchen.

Chinese food did sound really good, he decided, and the company was better. It’d be fun and who knew, he could end up staying the night at Antwan’s, balancing his maybes for another night. 

Better than the mac and cheese in his fridge, anyway, and soon they were all in Edge’s car, heading towards Ebott. And fate.

* * *

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Any college student in Ebott could tell you that Golden City was the best place for Chinese in town. They served obscene portion sizes of delicious food, at a price that kept them very busy throughout the week. Despite that, they didn’t have to wait long after they walked in the door. A tiny Asian woman in a large apron came up to them almost immediately, chattering away as she gestured for them to follow. 

Stretch prattled along with her, not a single word that Jeff could understand. Possibly Mandarin? He didn’t know. Neither Edge nor Antwan seemed surprised by this turn of events, only following her to a corner table where they were promptly sat. 

“i’ve got a standing reservation here,” Stretch leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “featured them on my twitter once and the owner loved it. course, the edgelord here doesn’t like to eat out that much, so i mostly use it for lunch.”

“Eating out is perfectly fine for an indulgence, not as a daily practice,” Edge told him. He was trying to surreptitiously wipe the table with one of the napkins. It looked perfectly clean to Jeff, but he didn’t ask, and when Stretch absently picked up his water glass and the soy sauce bottle on his side of the table so that Edge could wipe beneath it, Jeff automatically did the same with the little basket of sweeteners and the salt shaker. 

Cleaning off the table, no matter how unnecessary, seemed to calm Edge somewhat. He allowed Stretch to take one of his gloved hands, twining their fingers together. Beneath the table, Antwan did the same, closing his warm hand over Jeff’s, his thumb stroking the smooth skin of his wrist, and Jeff felt like his heart might burst.

No menus appeared but that didn’t seem to matter. Hot tea was on the table in minutes and not long after there were plates loaded with food, bowls filled with rice, all wedged together on the table between water glasses and sauces, piled together family-style.

Thinking of that way pinched, a little, but…yeah, they were good friends, the best of. Jeff didn’t think Stretch would mind if he thought of them as family.

It was fun. Stretch was just…Stretch, but Edge showed more than a few glimpses of the bone-dry sense of humor that Jeff knew lurked beneath the surface of his scowling veneer. There was plenty of food; sesame noodles and fried wontons, vegetable stir fry and egg foo young. Antwan and Stretch battled with chopsticks over the last egg roll, neither of them noticing until it was too late that Edge stole it out from under them, and Jeff couldn’t stop laughing at their outraged expressions while Edge smugly chewed. 

There was more tea and laughter, and by the time they were splitting up the fortune cookies, the Great Action Figure Catastrophe was mostly out of his mind. 

“okay, okay, let’s see what i got,” Stretch broke open his cookie, absently munching on a piece as he unfolded his fortune. “’the early bird gets the worm but the second mouse gets the cheese’,” he read, then scowled. “that’s not a fortune, that’s a proverb. bleh.” He crumbled it up and tossed it on the table. “what did you get, babe?”

“It says my lucky numbers are 7, 14, 26, 32, 47, and 59,” Edge said, so seriously that at first Jeff didn’t see the sparkle in his eye lights.

“turn it over, asshole,” Stretch sighed, “come on!”

“Ah, there it is,” Edge squinted at the tiny print. “Hm, it says a beautiful, smart, and funny person will be coming in to my life.”

“that one’s a little late.”

“It is,” Edge said agreeably. He set the broken bits of his cookie on Stretch’s plate, where they were promptly consumed. “Once they find me, I’ll have to explain to them that I already married you.” 

Stretch choked on his last bite, chewing furiously before reaching over to give Edge a rough shove. 

“you shit,” Stretch said fondly, and didn’t resist when Edge took hold of his hand, drawing it up to press a kiss against his knuckles. 

“You see?” Edge murmured against the delicate bones. “This is why no one should set their path to the declarations of baked goods.”

Antwan only shook his head and opened his. “’To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing’.”

“must be why people are always bitching at you, antwan, you don’t do any of those.”

“I’m a lawyer, I thrive on criticism,” Antwan said easily. He gave Jeff a nudge with his elbow. “All right, what about you?”

Jeff broke the cookie over his plate to keep the crumbs from scattering, unfolding his fortune.

_Don’t worry about money, the best things in life are free._

He only realized he was staring at it for too long when Stretch said, cautiously, “andy? you okay?”

“Um, yeah.” He crumpled it up, tossing it on the table. “I’m going to hit the restroom before we take off, be right back.”

He didn’t wait for anyone to say anything, pushing back his chair and heading towards the long hallway that led to the toilets. They were meant for a single person and he went in gratefully, locking the door behind him. Inside, he ignored the toilet with its little basket of potpourri on the tank and went to the sink. Splashing cold water on his face helped ease the stinging heat and he braced his hands on the sides, breathing deeply as the water trickled down his cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” he told himself, “It’s okay, they don’t mind.” Yeah, didn’t mind that he was a fucking freeloader, all starting with his student loans getting paid off for the low, low price of being a decent person. 

Jeff sighed, yanking a few paper towels from the holder and drying his face. They really didn’t care, he honestly knew it. Knowing it didn’t make him feel better, though, and the food was sitting heavy in his belly when he opened the door…and almost ran headfirst into Antwan.

“You were taking a while. You feeling okay?" His dark eyes searched Jeff’s face with visible concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine,” Jeff summoned up a smile, settling a hand on Antwan’s chest before he asked lightly, “So, am I headed back to your place with you tonight?”

He knew the answer before Antwan said a word, the apologetic expression that crossed his face said it all, and his hopes fell. 

“I can’t tonight, I’m heading out as soon as we’re done with dinner. We have a big court case coming up and I need to polish my opening statement.” He glanced out of the hallway and whatever he saw must’ve satisfied him because he leaned in to nuzzle a soft kiss at the base of Jeff’s throat, soft and teasing. “You’re too much of a distraction to have laying around.”

"Aww, not even a cuddle at bedtime?” Jeff tried. Going home alone tonight sounded like a misery. if he could just sleep in Antwan’s bed, wake up in the middle of the night and know someone was sleeping beside him, maybe—

Antwan only shook his head. "I’m not very good at only cuddling around you. Better not to have the temptation.”

His fragile soap bubble hopes popped just like that and Jeff nodded, keeping his smile firmly pasted in place. But some of his disappointment must’ve shown, because Antwan’s reached up and cupped his face in one hand. 

“What about this weekend?” Antwan suggested. “Stay over Saturday night and Sunday morning we can sleep in.”

It was a good compromise, a few nights on his own to earn a morning in Antwan’s bed. “I like the sound of that. Come on, before they send out a search party.”

Stretch and Edge were waiting when they came out, bags of leftovers sitting in wait. The bill was on the table, signed in Edge’s precise hand and Jeff couldn’t help looking, wincing as he saw the total. The bags only made it worse and he couldn’t decide if he should carry one to help out or leave it so it didn’t look like he was claiming it as his own. Antwan and Edge took the choice out of his hands, gathering up the bags between them. 

Whatever cheerful farewell Stretch called to their hostess got him a chorus of the same from the kitchen, the entire staff waving as they went out in the cool night air. It was almost dark, the sun just dipping below the horizon. 

“is all that gonna fit in that suitcase you call a trunk?” Stretch asked. He was lighting a cigarette almost before they were out the door, deliberately walking ahead of them so he couldn’t see Edge’s scowl. 

“There is nothing wrong with my trunk,” Edge said coolly. The bag rustled at his side, almost creaking from its burden as he walked a little faster. “At least my car fits four people, unlike someone else.”

“Don’t be shitting on my car, it didn’t do anything to you,” Antwan grumbled. 

“Oh, please, I have serious car envy from both of you,” Jeff said, wryly. That much he could admit, couldn’t he? “Someday, I’m going to own a car like yours. Or maybe a car at all.”

“nothing wrong with the bus,” Stretch said loftily. He danced nimbly aside as Edge tried to pluck away his cigarette. How he moved that quickly without actually shortcutting, Jeff did not know, but somehow he was suddenly on the other side of their little group, taking a hasty drag as Edge stalked him determinedly. 

“Yeah, but you only take it to prevent vehicular homicide,” Antwan said with a snort.

“please, it would be manslaughter at best…okay, okay, i’m done with it, edgelord, fuck me.” He tossed the butt down, grinding it out under his sneaker and retrieving the squashed remains to toss in a nearby trash can.

Edge watched Stretch a moment longer, until he was sure the lighter wasn’t making a reappearance, then said, "Jeff, if you’d like, you can drive mine for the ride home.”

That made him stop, staring at Edge in disbelief. Edge’s car was gorgeous, sleek and cherry-red, and probably way out of Jeff’s lifetime budget. "Seriously?”

“Of course.” Edge pulled out his keys and started to hand them over, then drew them back inches from Jeff’s hand. "You can, I assume?"

“Yeah, yeah, of course I can!" Jeff laughed. He snatched the keys as they were offered to him again with a whoop of joy. Fuck it, if nothing else, he could enjoy driving an awesome car, even if it wasn’t his own. 

Edge always parked in the back of any lot, away from the crowd of other cars. Jeff ran ahead, all his attention on that gorgeous cherry-red paint job and it had been a while since he’d driven, sure, but he wasn’t worried. Maybe this was only an excuse for Edge and Stretch to make out in the backseat, but Jeff didn’t care. This was going to be awesome.

When he tried to remember what happened later, nothing stood out. He saw them standing there, sure, but didn't think anything of it, why would he? It was barely nine o'clock and Ebott was a nice town. Three men in t-shirts and work boots, nothing remarkable about them, standing around on the sidewalk with cigarettes in hand. It was about as normal as could be. 

That one of them swung into his path only brought surprise, not fear, and Jeff nearly ran into him, apologies automatically coming to his lips, “Oh, sorry about—"

He broke off, couldn’t even cry out at the sudden shock of tearing pain.

“That's what you get, monster fucker." The face so close to his own was unshaven, bloodshot eyes boring into his own. His breath was rank with alcohol, sickeningly thick, and he spit when he talked, a fine spray of foulness against Jeff's face.

Past that first jagged thrust of excruciating pain, it didn't even really hurt, not at first. Like a weak punch, once, twice, three times, against his belly, and then Jeff staggered back, away from the man, who had tiny blossoms of bright red suddenly speckling his white t-shirt. Jeff looked down, saw the handle sticking out and all he could think was that it didn't belong there. He fumbled at it with numb fingers that turned crimson and slippery when he touched it.

Later, he would think how strange it was that everything was sort of blurred in his memory, but he could still remember some detail vividly. There was shouting, cursing, _screaming_ , but none of it was him. He only stood, wavering on his feet and staring at the redness dripping from his hands. 

_He stabbed me_ , Jeff realized numbly, _I’m bleeding_. It was a knife handle, the knife was still in him, and there was the pain, sharp and wrong and terrible. He opened his mouth to cry out and couldn’t, warm copper choking him, blood bubbling out from between his lips. 

The screaming cut off abruptly into a new, terrible silence broken only by scuffling against pavement, but Jeff was sliding to his knees in slow motion, falling back on the sidewalk. There was a street light over him, pouring harsh fluorescents down in a glaring circle. 

"Jeff?" Antwan was suddenly there, the light behind his head cast his face in shadow, but Jeff could still see his eyes, so wide the whites showed all the way around, "Jeff? Baby? Fuck, oh, god, oh fuck—“

He's never called me that, Jeff thought hazily, reaching up to touch him but his hands were bloody, couldn’t touch him with dirty, bloody hands, tried to pull away. Antwan grabbed his hand anyway, the wetness squelching between their palms, and that was blood, his blood, he was bleeding. 

More scuffling sounds and feet appeared next to him in worn converse with untied laces dragging in the dirt.

"edge, let them breathe. if you kill them, the paperwork will never end." Each word was bitten off with sharp precision, colder than he’d ever heard Stretch talk. “antwan, i need you to move, pal. come on, we need to hurry. give me your jacket.” 

The knife handle vanished beneath Antwan’s jacket spread over him, and Stretch was crouching next to him now, his bones stark in the garish streetlight. His eye lights glowed fiercely in his sockets, no, it was only one eye light, strobing orange with seizure-inducing intensity. 

“jeff? jeff, look at me, kid." No, not, Jeff, Stretch never called him Jeff. He was Andy, Handy Andy. Jeff tried to correct him and coughed, gagging on the thick taste of iron in his throat. “i need you to listen to me, okay? i’m gonna help you, but the police are on their way and we can't have this much blood and no one hurt, do you understand?"

Police, yes, he could hear sirens, distant still but getting closer. 

“Stretch, you need to hurry.” Edge’s voice was further away, oddly strained.

"i know.” He leaned in close, whispering softly, “don't worry, kiddo, you're going to be all right. I promise."

 _I promise_. It sounded so fierce, no hilarious little pinkie swear, but more like a vow, an unbroken oath.

The feel of long, bony fingers sliding under his shirt was impossibly ticklish, strange to feel anything outside of the pain. They were cool against his skin, then suddenly they weren’t, warming, almost painfully hot. From beneath the jacket came an eerie, greenish glow, mostly stifled but Jeff couldn’t look away from it, mesmerized. It went brighter, streaming out through the sleeves and the seams. The pain receded some, draining into that heat, swirling away and leaving a strange weakness behind. Until that faded, too, and the glow dimmed to nothingness. 

Suddenly, Jeff could breathe much easier again; his mouth still tasted foul, but it was easier. Next to him, Antwan leaned in close, gathering up Jeff’s hand again. His knuckles were grimy even in the streetlight, rusty with drying blood. 

“there you go.” Stretch wobbled where he was crouching, falling to his knees on the sidewalk. Sweat was beading on his skull, running down his face in translucent orange rivulets and his eye lights were back to their normal pale, soft white. “it's all good, kid, just like i said. go to sleep now, all right? we'll be there when you wake up.”

He pulled his hands out from beneath the coat and tossed something aside. It was the knife, Jeff realize distantly, it wasn’t in him anymore. “antwan, here, you need to keep pressure on this still.” And when he didn’t move, Stretch grabbed his hand impatiently. “come on, help out here. jeff’s gonna be okay.”

"Supposed to call me Andy," Jeff mumbled. It still hurt, but not as bad, a tooth-ache sort of throbbing in his gut as Antwan did as he was told and pushed the bunched-up fabric of his jacket down where only moments ago his blood was spilling out. 

Stretch let out a tired chuckle. "sorry, running jokes were disrupted by injury. okay, _andy_ , go to sleep, yeah?”

It was hard to resist that order, darkness dragging at him even as the sirens soared in volume, other voices raised around them. Two hands were holding his own, uncaring of the mess. One was bony and hard, but comfortingly warm and the other gripped almost too hard, trembling in his grip. 

_I’m okay_ , he tried to say but the words didn’t come. Instead, his eyes drifted closed on their own and the darkness pulled him down.

* * *

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I owe a lot of comment replies, and thank you everyone SO much for reading, but I thought you might want the conclusion more than anything. 
> 
>  
> 
> As a warning, there is an instance of homophobia and an off-screen character death in this chapter. Not of a major player in the story, promise.

* * *

Waking up seemed more difficult than usual, but Jeff tried anyway, prying open his sticky eyes to see an unfamiliar room. It took him a moment to collect his hazy thoughts enough to realize he was in a hospital bed, rails up on either side of him and an IV taped to one arm.

A throb of pain started up warningly in his side when he tried to sit up and Jeff sagged back against the pillows, swallowing hard. Oh, right. Those guys, the blood—

There was no sign of any blood now. His hands were scrubbed pink and clean and his clothes were replaced with a hospital gown. A faint snore caught his attention and that was when he finally noticed the chair pulled up next to the bed. No rickety plastic one but a regular armchair, and Stretch was curled up in it, asleep, a tangle of a blanket partially covering him and legs dangling over the arm. His bony feet were hanging over the untidy pile of his shoes, a different colored sock on each one. 

That must’ve made for a rough night, trying to sleep in that little chair. Stretch was a good foot and a half taller than him, Edge only slightly less so. Antwan didn’t tower over him quite as much, but Jeff was definitely the shortest in their group.

Their group.

A quick glance around the room told him that it was only the two of them and a pang of concern overshadowed any discomfort from his gut. Jeff groaned as he struggled to sit up and Stretch’s eye sockets opened instantly. 

“hey, kid,” he said, groggily. Stretch stood up, pushing his hands at the small of his back as he straightened his spine with a groan. “the chairs here could definitely use a built-in futon or something.”

“I bet,” Jeff said. His voice sounded raspy, his throat painfully dry. “I think I’m supposed to tell you that you look like shit, but honestly, you kinda always look like that.”

“you can’t be too bad if you’ve got jokes,” Stretch said dryly, then more seriously. “how are you feeling?”

“Thirsty.” There was a styrofoam cup with a bendy straw sitting on a swinging tray attached to the bed, and Jeff reached for it, almost fumbling the cup. Stretch caught it before it could spill all over the sheets and held it while he drank gratefully from the straw. The water was cool and refreshing, and Jeff didn’t think it had ever tasted so good. 

“Thanks,” Jeff said, after he’d had his fill, sinking back into the pillows.

"no problem. don't feel too bad, klutz, you're still on the good drugs.” Stretch set the cup back down and stuck his hands in his pockets. “welp, from your expression, you’ve got a shit-ton of questions, so let me see if i can sum up before you fall back asleep. you're in the monster side of the hospital. it's technically a part of the embassy, so even though it’s supposed to be family only, they let me in, and it keeps the police out.”

“Where are Edge and Antwan?” That was his most pressing question, because they had to be together. If they were hurt, he was sure Stretch would have told him that first, but he…he needed to know. 

Stretch poked absently at a tray sitting on the table next to the water. It held what looked like breakfast; a box of cereal, some fruit, a carton of orange juice. “still talking to the police, down at the embassy. they’ll be by later.”

He tried to offer Jeff an orange and he shook his head, refusing to be distracted. “Are they in trouble?"

“nah,” Stretch’s smile was careless, almost deliberately so, “edge might’ve been a smidge overzealous putting those shits down,” He held up a hand, thumb and forefinger a bare inch apart, “lil’ bit. but it’s hard to argue it wasn’t deserved when you were laying there doing your best impression of a pincushion. things got a little hairy, but it’s all good now.”

Somehow, Jeff didn’t think that was the entire story. Once, in a moment of rare confidence, Edge mentioned that Stretch, and his own brother, either lied terribly or very, very well. It made it impossible to know for sure which was which, and a bad lie could be a disguise for a better one, partial lies strung together into a necklace of half-truths.

Whatever the actual truth was, he’d have to wait and try to get it out of Edge. He was straightforward, at least. Edge would either tell you or refuse, not bothering with any nuances in between.

The ache in his belly was rising like a dull throb. Jeff set a hand gingerly over it, feeling the heavy padding of bandages, and remembered warmth, eerie green light. “You healed me.”

“yeah.” There was no attempt to dismiss that, at least, nothing but an honest answer.

“I didn’t know Monsters could heal Humans like that.”

“no humans do,” Stretch fiddled with the blanket, picking little lint balls from it and flicking them away. “we didn’t want them to know. asgore is lots of things, but he’s not stupid, and we were afraid of what might happen if the humans in charge got wind of what we can do. hence, the healing shit sans and i were working on. yeah, it takes magic to make it, but a manufactured product puts monsters out of the direct equation. or it would’ve, if it worked.” He coughed a little, his eye lights skittering around the room. “anyway, that’s one of the reasons i couldn’t heal you all the way. couldn’t really explain away that much blood and no one hurt. not like they were going to buy that dracula fumbled a snack or something. i took care of the worst of it, i think. i don’t have a liver or spleen but i’m pretty sure you like having ‘em around.”

Jesus. It left him cold, thinking of what Stretch had risked, healing him. If anyone saw or guessed— “I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

Stretch finally looked at him, surprised, like it hadn’t even occurred to him to ask a promise of it. “of course you won’t. so, they’re gonna keep you a few days, the doc said, make sure everything is on the up and up before they cut you loose.”

“Sounds fun.” 

“eh, i’ll keep you company. gotta say, it’s kinda nice to be on this side of the hospital bed. trust me, i know what it’s like. we’ll get you netflix and everything in here.” Stretch hesitated, then added, slowly, “edge thought we should wait to let you decide whether or not to call your parents, but he didn't say why.”

He didn't ask, but his expression was gentle, inviting confidence. He’d never judge Jeff if he didn’t tell him, but somehow, he thought he could this time, even if it hurt to say. Today seemed like a day for confessions, may as well lance the wound. 

"My parents kicked me out when I was fifteen," Jeff said, tiredly. "When I told them I was gay. I ended up stayed with one of my teachers until I graduated if you can believe it. I don't have any other family, so...anyway, she helped. She was so great and—" His voice broke, old pain rising up, joining the ache in his belly, but this one was a wound that had never really healed. 

His parents he was mostly over; sometimes his mom called to check in these days, but whatever maternal instinct that wouldn’t allow her to cut him loose wasn’t enough for her to welcome him back, either. Their stilted phone calls were more relief when they were over than anything else. But Mrs. Stinson. Julia, she’d told him to call her with a laugh, she wasn’t a teacher in her own house. He could still remember her hugs and the light, floral scent of her perfume, comforting him in those dark first days when he couldn’t believe his parents had…he’d never dreamed that—

A hand settled over his, bony, inhuman, _Monster_ , and Jeff gripped it desperately. 

“what happened to her?” Stretch asked quietly.

“Cancer happened. My junior year at college. She didn’t tell me for a long time, didn’t want me to worry.” A fine sentiment, but it’d given him no time to prepare himself when she’d died. One day she’d been there, supporting him, the foundation holding him up and the next, he’d been on his own again, adrift. “And ever since then, I’ve been…I don’t know. A little lost. All my friends from college graduated and moved on and I’m still here and—I know you don’t believe it, but I was so, so happy when you wanted to be friends, I…I haven’t had that for such a long time.”

He could taste salt and this time it was tears. There was a box of tissue on the side table and Stretch snagged it, plunking it on the bed so Jeff could grab a few, wiping his face dry, as much as he could with tears still trickling.

He didn’t care. Stretch needed a tissue or two of his own, wiping at his cheek bones, "yeah. me, too. maybe not ever.” Stretch let out another sigh, his bony fingers flexing in Jeff’s grip. “but this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t friends with me.”

That made Jeff laugh weakly through his tears. “It must be because you’re a scientist.”

“what?”

“You guys love being technically right. Yeah, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt, but that doesn’t make it your fault.”

Stretch only hummed thoughtfully. There was no telling if he believed Jeff or not. 

He squeezed Stretch’s hand; his grip was weaker than he would have liked and he was starting to want to go back to sleep, but he needed to say a few things yet, “If they'd attacked you, they would have killed you."

There was no question of that, Jeff knew. Low HP, Antwan had told him on that first visit, five on a good day. One good swipe of a knife and Stretch would have been gone, dust, and as terrible as it had been, as terrifying, the blood and the fear lingering in the back of his mind, it was easier to accept when he thought of the alternative; Stretch in the lead, trying to sneak a cigarette, and maybe he would have noticed them, noticed the knife. Maybe not. 

"they almost killed you,” Stretch took a deep breath, let it out in a shaky rush, “let's not dwell on the almosts and could be's, yeah? bet edge and antwan will do enough for both of us.”

Antwan, the shock on his face when he was kneeling on the ground next to him, the fear, his bloody hands holding his jacket, pushing it down on the wounds. Fuck, he wanted to see him, touch him, make sure he was okay. Jeff tamped down that urge as best he could. They would come when they could and that would have to be enough. 

He wasn’t exactly in much condition to storm out and find him. 

Nope, now he was here, in the hospital, and with that thought came another cold realization. Fuck, but this was going to be a fortune in debt, a replacement for the student loans he’d gotten rid of. And they would fucking know it, Stretch and Edge, no, no, not this time. “Listen, I need you to not pay my medical bills.”

Stretch only looked startled, without a hint of guilt, but yeah, liar, liar. “what? andy—”

“I mean it,” Jeff said firmly. “You guys already do too much for me. It’s one thing when it’s bus fares and Chinese food but this is too much. I’ll take care of it.” Surely he could set up a payment plan of some sort, hospitals wanted their money but they’d take what they could get.

Since he hadn’t been able to persuade Jeff to try anything from the breakfast tray, Stretch seemed to have decided it was fair game, peeling the orange and munching on the segments. “pretty nice speech, but we weren’t gonna pay your medical bills. since you’re listed as an embassy employee, they get to cover it all under your health care plan.”

What? Jeff sat up too fast, had to sink back into the pillows with a grimace as his side protested vigorously. “I…what? How am I listed as an Embassy employee?” 

Stretch only grinned smugly, licking juice from his fingertips. “did you ever take a good look at that permanent badge edge gave you?”

“Past seeing the picture is terrible, no.” It was in his wallet even now, but Jeff never really looked at it, only handed it to the guards at New New Home whenever he was stopping by.

“welp, spoiler alert, you’re listed as an official liaison between humans and monsterkind. pretty sure edge has been trying to discreetly slip you a job for weeks now, but i’ll let him bring that up to you.”

“But…Edge has me listed as an employee?” Jeff sputtered. “He can’t…he’ll get into trouble!”

“why would he get into trouble?"

"He will!” Jeff scowled as Stretch flopped back into his chair and for once, his visible amusement was not damn well funny. “Look, I don’t want him to stick his neck out for me and cause problems for himself at work.” 

Stretch propped an elbow on the chair arm, resting his chin in his palm as he asked with polite interest, “do you even know what edge does?"

"Yes!" Jeff said defensively. "He showed me a lot of it once when we were having lunch together."

"uh huh, i bet he did." Stretch blinked once, slowly, and his amusement was shining in his eye lights. "kid, uh, no one is going to be yelling at edge for what he put on your swipe card. or for anything, really. edge is the senior director of operations, he lowkey runs the embassy from behind the scenes."

"What?" Dumbly, the word falling free, because yeah, Edge really had shown him some stuff, spreadsheets and documents, calmly explaining what he did every day, but Jeff hadn’t suspected _that_. 

Stretch shrugged. "that bit ain’t official, but everyone knows it. edge doesn't want to be in the spotlight, so he does everything from the background, all kinds of shit. He handles pr, the legal teams, sets up meetings with heads of state. all of it goes directly through him. embassy would fall apart without him, no one is going to even question handing over a benefits package. come to think of it, there's probably only a couple people over his head who _could_ question it.”

"Like…like who?" Jeff asked weakly.

“well, there's asgore, of course,” Stretch snagged a handful of grapes, popping one into his mouth. “probably janice. if they'd fall apart without him, he falls apart without her. okay, that’s enough, you’re hurting, and you need to go back to sleep.” Stretch wiped his hands carelessly on a napkin and stood, walking over to the IV to fiddle with something.

“Wait.” Jeff caught his hands, stilling him. “Those guys, the ones that…what happened to them?” 

“they got out with their souls intact,” Stretch said sourly. “they’re in jail far as I know.”

That sounded weirdly ominous and gave him another question. “Are you sure Humans even have souls?”

That seemed to take Stretch aback. “um, yeah. i’ve seen them.”

“How?”

“monsters can summon souls," Stretch said, a little impatiently. "it’s a thing, c'mon kid--”

Today was fraught with information and as much as his side was aching, Jeff couldn’t help asking, “Can you summon mine?”

“well, fuck, you chose a hell of a time to get over your problem asking questions. you’re pretty banged up, kid, i—" Whatever Stretch saw in Jeff’s expression gave him a pause and he stopped with a sigh, “yeah, okay. just…real quick.” He gave the door a wary glance, then settled a hand over Jeff’s chest. “this shouldn’t hurt. tell me if it does.”

His fingers curled inward, almost like he was grabbing something. There was the strangest tugging sensation as if he had a hook caught painlessly in his spine, making his back arch until—

Light coalesced in Stretch’s hand, hovering above the bones and Jeff stared, distantly amazed.

His soul.

Illuminated a pale green, it looked like an actual heart, the same as on a Valentine card. Sort of. It was hard to look at, the edges undefined, wavering between the childish outline and something undefinable, and the light came somehow from within it. “Oh.”

“yeah, you have a nice one,” Stretch didn’t touch it, only let it hover over his outstretched hand. “monster souls are silver, if you don’t have lv, but human souls have a color that matches your dominant trait.”

“What’s my—“

“compassion,” Stretch interrupted softly. “okay, that’s enough.” He let his hand drop and the soul faded, disappeared like it was sliding right through his shirtfront. “don’t try that with just anyone on the street, it’s kinda a big thing.”

“Oh.” He was suddenly terribly sleepy and wondered if it was from pulling out his soul or if Stretch had managed to hit the painkiller pump on his IV when he wasn’t looking. “You seen Edge’s soul?”

“that’s a more complicated question than you think.”

He’d heard that Edge had LV, knew what it was. His mouth seemed to be willing to go on asking questions on its own, uncaring if it was rude or prying. “Has Edge killed someone?”

“yes.” Stretch offered no excuse, no explanation.

“More than one person?”

A long, slow sigh. “yeah, but that’s really his story to tell.”

“He was a soldier.” 

“yeah,” Stretch agreed, quietly. “he was.”

Jeff didn’t know why he asked, couldn’t stop it from spilling out, “Have you killed anyone?”

“one person,” So terribly soft, barely audible, “but i killed them a lot. now go to sleep or i’m gonna put your lights out myself.”

“Stretch?” It was getting hard to think, his consonants softened, slurring out. 

“what now?” Stretch asked in exasperated amusement.

“I'm glad you're my friend." 

“thanks, andy.” Warmth settled over Jeff, another blanket? He couldn’t tell. “me, too. i’ll be here when you wake up again, kid.”

“Mmkay.” Sleep was too hard to resist anymore, and his questions faded, lost, as he drifted. His last thought was to hope Antwan and Edge would get here soon and then even that faint worry faded, lost in the darkness. 

-finis-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there was a long peek at Jeff's side of the story! Next, we'll take a trip backwards and see another POV. Stretch said things got a little hairy for a while there, so next story will be a look at what he meant...


End file.
